Evolutionary Imperative
by ideophobic
Summary: Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard, brother to the mighty Thor, attempted King of Midgard, was a Jotun. Jane had no idea what was coming for her. Lokane. Two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

A little background: I've always wondered why no one ever touched on this subject. I mean, no one ever asks, "What are Jotuns like?" or "How come you never see a female Jotun?" The way I see it, Jotuns are closely related to trolls - whom are known in myth to abduct their lovers and hide them away. I thought it would be fun to have Loki go a bit more unhinged _and _throw in some Lokane. So here it is. My theory on Jotun mating/society and a nice splash of Lokane smut.

Enjoy.

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Loki Odinson, whether he liked it or not, was a Jotun.

For the most part, he could ignore it. He didn't look the part, most days, and generally didn't go around freezing people to death, so it really wasn't that surprising that he could go damn near his whole life without knowing it.

Unfortunately for the adopted prince, when his true heritage did come to light, it set in motion a chain of chemical and metaphysical reactions within his body. The Jotuns, being a physiologically very unique and secretive by nature, were a mystery to the Asgardians. Besides their war and scary bedtime stories, they really didn't know much about them at all.

Unbeknownst to Frigg and Odin, Jotuns are very unique indeed. Though it was noted that not a single female Jotun was seen when the armies of Asgard stormed their realm, it was falsely attributed to war and mass evacuation. This of course led to many jokes and jests about the Jotun's origins amongst the Asgardian soldiers.

What no one knew, besides the Jotuns themselves, of course, was that male Jotuns, due to the very low female population and mortality rate, guard their mates jealously. Driven solely by instinct, an of-age male is compelled to find his perfect match via a string of physiological pressures. Jotun males can tell by smell alone whether or not a female is acceptable and will stop at nothing to find her, hide her away, and impregnate her. They become intensely protective and jealous, a precaution to ward off males who would try to steal her when no other females are available. The custom on Jotunheim is to abduct the female from the family and hide her in a painstakingly prepared den and hide her away until, and most times after, she is well and truly pregnant.

The male is driven by an intense and overwhelming physical need to find a suitable female and can be extremely dangerous if separated or kept from his chosen mate. The search and abduction of their female is considered one of the most important rites of passage to the Jotuns. An unavoidable and physiological imperative turned cultural milestone.

Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard, brother to the mighty Thor, attempted King of Midgard, was a Jotun. And he had no idea how different he really was.

It wasn't until roughly a year after his attack on Midgard and his subsequent banishment to the very realm he had tried to bring to it's knees, when his body finally caught up to what would have been it's normal rhythm, if he had been raised on Jotunheim.

He had been casually strolling through a gala - some sort of Midgardian summit for peace - going unseen and enjoying listening to the ridiculousness the leaders of Midgard spouted, when he got the first sign that not all was right.

Without any warning, it seemed his senses had tripled in sensitivity. Every woman in the room, dressed in their Midgardian finery and dangling off of mens' arms, suddenly smelled _foul._

Loki stumbled, nearly bowled over by the smell. His senses had always been acute, but no where near the sensitivity he experienced. With a look of utter repulsion, Loki spelled himself out of the gala with a flash of blue light. The guests remained unaware he had ever been there.

If Loki had been raised by a Jotun, he would have known that heightened senses were just the beginning of his ordeal.

The Prince quickly learned that this wasn't a one time experience. Everywhere he went, he was repulsed by the smell clinging to the mortal women. Even the most beautiful of them smelled foul, their perfumes making his eyes water.

He took to hiding himself in his _rented _penthouse, avoiding any and all human contact, hoping his body would fix whatever was wrong with it without his active intervention.

However, within days of the gala, Loki's ability to get adequate rest became less and less. It seemed he could not turn off his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, his mind raced, he felt feverish, he began to sweat, his magic bursting around him erratically. It was like his body refused any rest, even when exhaustion tried to pull him into unconsciousness.

To fix this problem, Loki stopped sleeping. He did not need much, not really, not compared to mortal standards. But after a month of no rest, he was feeling the effects.

With the exhaustion came a wave of urgency. He became short-tempered and jittery, the smallest things setting him off. To take some of the edge off, he took to flying at night, from one underpopulated region to the next. It relieved the smallest fraction of his tension, but not much at all.

As the days dragged on, Loki became worse and worse. He could not eat and could not sleep, his stomach refusing any sustenance. He considered his options. He could could continue to wait it out and slowly waste away on Midgard or he could contact Thor and the Asgardian healers.

Clearly, the latter was not an option.

Luckily for the traitorous prince, relief was close at hand.

On one of his regular flights over the empty spaces in the center of the United States, Loki touched down onto the hard, packed earth of the New Mexico Desert.

After two months of no sleep and no answers, Loki was on his tipping point. He felt utterly unhinged, exhausted and filled with the instinctual urgency to _find _something. He was so distraught that he did not pay attention to his landing spot. Without realizing it, he had landed on the outer edge of a little town.

Behind him, it's silver shell gleaming the moonlight, shrouded in scraggly desert shrubbery, sat a small motor home.

Without any knowledge as to how this simple act would alter her life forever, Jane Foster slid open the last of her tiny windows, trying to let in the summer cool summer breeze that swept through the desert at night.

The gentle, cool breeze drifted through her open windows, pushing her wavy hair over her delicate shoulders playfully. She sighed with relief as the hot air in her trailer was replaced, the coolness feeling wonderful against the skin of her legs that her sleep shorts exposed. She turned to go to bed, determined to get too sleep at a decent time for once.

Outside, Loki was savoring the same cool wind, letting it relax his tired muscles and ruffle his raven hair. He was just about to sigh with contentment when he caught it.

Something on the wind smelled extremely, _deliciously _good.

Without any warning, all his energy came rushing back to him. He felt strong, like the mightiest warrior. It felt like the months of exhaustion had vanished completely. Though he did not know why, he knew, without any shadow of a doubt, that the cure to his mysterious illness was exactly one hundred and twenty-two feet behind him.

He was quite suddenly frenzied, the urgency of the situation pressing in on him from all sides, driving logical thought from his brilliant mind and propelling him towards the odd little structure at his back.

Jane was just drifting off, just on the cusp of some much needed sleep, when her trailer exploded.

_No,_ she thought, stunned, as she stared at what used to be her far wall, _not exploded. Torn in half._

And standing amongst the debris that used to be the other half of her trailer was one very stressed out Prince of Mischief.

Tossing a crumpled piece of what used to be the metal outside of her home to the ground, Loki stalked toward her, his long legs hardly breaking stride as he hopped into the open shell that was her home.

Now very much awake, Jane scrambled out of bed, groping her nightstand for the gun Phil had forced her to carry. She barely knew how to hold the infernal thing, but a weapon was a weapon. If all else failed, she could throw it at him. She had only just brushed her fingertips against the cool metal of the barrel when she felt his fingers twist in her hair.

With a firm grip, he twisted the silky brown tresses around his fingers and brought them to his nose. Jane jerked backward against him to avoid losing a good chunk of her scalp. Trying to stay calm, she eyed the dark outline of her gun on her nightstand, nary a foot away, but definitely out of reach.

Loki was in euphoria. Not in all his long life had he ever smelled something as delicious or as perfect as this little mortal. Like _magic. _

It was mouthwatering.

With a pleased rumbling sound he had never before made, he brought her further against him, pressing her firmly against the leather and metal of his armor, wrapping his unoccupied arm around her belly like a steel band.

He brought his hand down, but didn't untangle his fingers form her hair. Loki bent down so as to press his nose to the crown of her head. The woman in his arms shivered and went stiff against him. Even through the layers of fabric and armor, he felt her take in a shuddering, halting breath.

"Loki." Her voice was high with distress and _extremely _familiar.

Jane felt his arm contract against her middle, bringing her impossibly closer to her captor and farther from her only means of protection.

"Jane Foster." His freezing breath stirred her hair and caused goosebumps to ripple across her exposed skin. The skin below her nightshirt and under his arm was quickly becoming very cold. Only then did she bother to look away from her gun to the limb restraining her.

The midnight blue shade of the hand eclipsing her hip blended perfectly with the heavy darkness around them, but stood out starkly against the white of her tank top.

She swallowed compulsively against the rising panic. _He is going to freeze me to death, _she thought near-hysterically.

"Loki..." Jane was proud her voice didn't shake. "What..." She didn't get to finish, as he turned her around with such speed her head swam. She found herself staring at Loki's breastplate, her breath coming out in a fog. "Loki," she gasped.

He felt too exposed, like everyone was watching them, watching _her. _He growled, pushing her into a corner, boxing her in with his looming frame, blocking anyone's view of her. He pressed against her, wanting her heat desperately, feeling his sharp Jotun teeth poking into his lower lip with the effort it took to keep himself from..._Valhalla, _he thought desperately, _I've never felt this kind of desire. _His whole body ached, like one great, raw nerve.

"Jane Foster," he groaned. "I don't know what you've done to me, but this can only end one way for you." He gripped her tighter, simultaneously bringing her closer and pushing her further into the wall.

_I'm going to die, _Jane thought, dazed. "I didn't _do _anything, Loki. I swear."

"Doesn't matter," his voice came out impossibly dark, a deep rumble from his chest. Loki grabbed her with both arms, transporting them, with no warning whatsoever, across the country, into his penthouse. He blocked her view of the window, hating the thought of anyone seeing her through it with an illogical fierceness. He half-pulled, half-dragged her into his the guest room, the only room in the penthouse with no windows.

He waved his hand behind him, magically sealing the door to keep out intruders.

"Loki, what the hell -" she finally burst out, before being effectively silenced by Loki sealing his thin blue lips over hers.

He was desperate. He needed her. He knew with a sudden sharp clarity that _she _was what his body had been craving, _she _was what his instincts were clamoring for. He needed her like he needed to breathe, and his body knew it.

Her lips had been parted when he swooped in on her, making it easy for him to snake his cool tongue into her warmth. He buried his fingers in her sweet-smelling hair, backing her towards the bed.

Jane felt like she'd been swept up in a tide. All her senses were over taken by him, like a storm. All she smelled was mint, leather, and the distinctly male smell all men carried. All she could see was the blue of his skin and the black of his armor. All she could feel was his cool skin against hers, his lips sliding against hers expertly. All she could hear was their ragged breathing and the low rumble that vibrated through his chest.

She had no idea what was wrong with him, but he seemed desperate. Not dangerous. His skin had turned to it's natural dark blue hue, showing how little control he had over himself. The astrophysicist wondered what could have possibly driven him to seek her out like he had, let alone drive him to _want _her.

She tried to pull away and ask, maybe try to speak some sense into him, but his assault was relentless. It wasn't until he bent her backwards onto the bed that she began to panic. The scientist made a high keening sound in the back of her throat, the only sound of protest she could manage with his mouth fused to hers.

Loki froze, one hand snaking up her creamy thigh, torso bent over her and one hand bracing his weight beside her head. He slowly, as if in pain, pulled his mouth off of hers. "I won't hurt you, Jane. I _can't." _

"Why?" She gasped as his cold hand left her thigh, bringing it in front of her eyes, showing her his dark blue skin and the markings that decorated it.

_"This," _he said harshly. "The Jotun won't let me. I _can't. _I _need _to do this, Jane." The thought of her hurting, of not being able to protect her, made his skin crawl and his stomach knot painfully. That wasn't an option. She'd stay where he could keep an eye on her. He clenched a hand into the fabric of her shirt above her hip, trying to keep her from moving away from him.

"So," she swallowed. "You aren't going to kill me?"

His whole body jerked, like she'd shocked him. He barred his teeth at her, the snarl that ripped from his chest seeping into her bones. "_No."_

Stunned, Jane nodded. "And if I..." Her face flushed. "If we...Would that, um, help you?" _God, _she thought, _please don't be lying in some screwed up attempt to get back at Thor. He's with Sif, I swear!_

_Yes, _he said desperately in his mind. On the outside, he nodded.

"I...okay, then." she whispered, her face flushed. She could do this. If anything it would be good for her; Darcy _had _said she needed to get laid.

For a moment, Loki was very still. But only for a moment. When her words registered, he swooped down upon her. Jane's clothes were gone before she could blink, his gone the next second. He pressed himself against her, his cool blue skin against hers making goosebumps pebble her warm skin. She gasped as his hands moved over her.

He had _great _hands.

He didn't waste any time, either. Instead choosing to get right to the main event, impaling her with her with one quick movement of his hips.

Jane cried out, half in pain - it _had _been a while - and half in pleasure. His coolness felt...odd, to say the least, but not bad. Not at all. As he moved his hips against hers, he bent down and latched his teeth onto the juncture that connected her neck to her shoulder. His sharp teeth splitting her delicate skin lightly, the tiny beads of blood wetting his icy tongue.

Desperate, he picked a faster, more erratic pace, pushing in and out of her faster and faster. Jane tried to hang on, wrapping her legs around his lean hips and locking her ankles, her nails biting into the skin of his back. "Loki!" she gasped, her neck beginning to ache from the cold of his teeth and white lights starting to dance in front of her eyes as his pace quickened.

He felt her tense, her silken walls contracting around him, just as he came undone. She went limp beneath him, even as he continued to thrust weakly into her, making sure every last drop of his seed had left him before relaxing against her. Loki didn't pull out, though, simply rolled them both onto their sides, wrapping his arms around her like a vice.

Jane slowly regained the ability to think, her breathing taking a little longer to even out. _What, _she mentally groaned, _did I just do? _

Loki's thoughts were in a similar vein, but he knew _exactly _what he had just done. He didn't need to be raised a Jotun to recognize an archaic mating rite. _Valhalla, _he thought, _I think I've just been married. __  
_

"Did that...help?" Jane said, her usually confident voice quiet. She tried to lightly squirm out of hold, but his midnight blue arms refused to budge.

"...In a way, yes." He said, his tone resigned. Now that he could think properly, he recognized what he had done. "Jane. Stop squirming."

She stilled at the sound of him gritting his teeth. Then realized that,_ yes_, he was still very much inside of her, and,_ no_, he was not unaffected by her movements. Her face burned. "Maybe if you -"

_"No,"_ he cut her off sharply. "Jane, you have to understand what's happened." He inhaled deeply, her delicious scent filling his lungs. "It appears we have been Mated."

Jane's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Mated? We had sex, yeah."

"No." He pushed her hair aside, revealing the circle of black marks on her shoulder, where his sharp teeth had pierced her skin and left the barest hint of frostbite. "We have been _Mated. _An ancient and archaic bonding ceremony." At her blank look, he sighed. "_Married, _Miss Foster. We've been _married."_


	2. Chapter 2

I'm a terrible person, I know, but at least I _eventually _got this up, yeah? Enjoy.

Unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine. Sorry!

EDIT: I forgot to add that there might be another installment to this, though it will be posted as a separate one-shot. Nothing is solid yet, but I would keep your eyes peeled for it in the coming weeks if you liked this.

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Jane had never believed in marriage.

To her, it was an outdated institution that her logical, scientific mind balked at. Why would she marry now, in this day and age, when a two people didn't _need _to be married to be together in one house? Sure, it made sense back when the church would have burned a woman at the stake for having a child out of wedlock or needed a man to provide and protect her, but _now? _A woman could raise a child on her own, if she wanted to. She didn't need to have a man around or be legally married to be with someone.

If she was completely honest with herself, Jane would say that she never thought marriage was in her future. She had been so focused on her career, on proving herself to everyone who doubted her, that she had never been able to keep a steady relationship, let alone _entertain _the idea of marriage or children.

Of course, then Thor had come in and…she was helpless in the face of his charm, his sweet smile, his guileless demeanor. And suddenly, Jane could see herself settling down with someone like him, having little golden-haired children and being happy, if not married. It was a nice thought.

That lasted about an hour.

He left, but he promised to come back for her. In hindsight, she should have known that it wouldn't work out between them.

After a year of nothing, not even a blip on her radar, he came crashing back to Earth. But not to her. No, he came back to fight his brother and then head back to his planet. He didn't bother to take a second to fly out to the Swiss observatory she had been relocated to or even pick up a damn _phone. _

Soon after she learned of his presence on Earth and then his abrupt departure, she let all her lingering feelings for the man go. Well, not all. A fair amount of annoyance stayed with her, especially when he deemed her important enough to finally visit her four months later.

To deliver the news that he was engaged to Sif, the woman who had come with the Warriors Three that day so long ago, and to say that his brother had been banished to her planet in the hopes of rehabilitation.

That had been the death blow to her good will towards Thor, though she couldn't bring up the will to really hate him.

_I might be able to now, though. _

In the bed in the guest room of Loki's penthouse, in his _arms, _Jane lay, disbelieving. It was difficult wrapping her mind around the thought that she had just _slept _with Thor's wayward brother, let alone whatever rubbish he was trying to tell her.

_Married? _Jane inwardly scoffed. _I didn't see a priest anywhere around here and I'm pretty sure I'd have to __**agree **__to something like that. _

Outwardly, the brunette laughed. "That's a…that's a funny joke, Loki," she said, her expression almost indulgent, like she was humoring his silly sense of humor. She made a move to pull away from him, to get some _space, _but he wouldn't allow that. Jane brushed his hand off of what she assumed was a large hickey on her neck, his touch uncomfortably…_arousing? Electric? Creepy?_

Loki's arm stayed firmly around her middle, trapping her against him, and the low growl that reverberated in his chest and through hers was warning enough that she should stop trying to get away from him. Jane stilled, but huffed, choosing to ignore his odd statement as some strange Asgardian pillow talk and move on to more pressing concerns.

"Please let me go," she said, pushing a bit on his shoulder to urge him to ease up on his grip. "I helped you out, didn't I? We did what you wanted. Shouldn't you be, I don't know, tossing me out of your bed by now?"

Usually, that was exactly what Loki would have done. He wasn't one for relationships and had generally only slept with the occasional wench or two when the desire arose. But that was not what this was. Jane Foster, his brother's once-beloved, had a unique quality about her that attracted his Jotun blood – that compelled him to seek her out, steal her away, and take her as his without a second's hesitation.

He would not be tossing her out into the hall like the other women he had seduced. No. This woman was his.

"You will not be going anywhere," he stated, his smooth voice firm and commanding, full of all the authority a prince should command. "You will stay here. With me." Did the woman not understand what a marriage entailed? Loki was certain that Midgardians had marriage, quite like what they had on Asgard. Did she not know of her obligations as a wife or that he was now responsible for her and any offspring they would have? "I was under the impression that you were one of the brightest of your people," he remarked, arching a dark brow at the flustered, indignant face she made. "Have you not been taught of marriage, Miss Foster?"

"I _know _what marriage is," she hissed, scooting her head back on the pillow in an attempt to find some breathing room. "So I _know _that what we just did does _not _count as marriage."

"Perhaps not on Midgard," Loki allowed, tightening his hold on her with a little frown as he noticed her attempt to gain some distance between them. "But _magically, _we are wed. If it were an Asgardian ceremony, we would have performed a handfasting, but the principle is the same, if a bit outdated."

Yes, he could feel the slight tug in his gut, the slight pull towards her that meant she know housed a hint of his magic within her, tying him irrevocably to her. They were married.

Jane didn't like the absolutely sure look on his face, like he knew exactly what he was talking about when he was so obviously _delusional. _"Look," she said, huffing out an impatient breath. "I don't _care _if we somehow did some weird magical-bonding thing. I didn't agree to marry you, so I didn't. Simple as that." After a second, she added. "Now please let me go."

The prince couldn't help but look at her like she was daft, like he was utterly bewildered by her skewed logic. "How could we be bonded but not _married?" _He shook his head at her. "That is not possible. We are wed. You gave your consent when you agreed to lie with me." At least, that was how the Jotun in him took it. If he had done things properly, he would have courted her with many gifts and outings before asking for her hand, but he hadn't done things properly at all.

But that was beside the point. What was done could not be undone, whether she liked it or not. _And it does not seem as though she is terribly pleased by the idea. _

"I did _not _give you _consent _to _marry me!" _Jane growled, suddenly taking his words more seriously. Dread pooled in her stomach at his haughty look and confident words, her newfound knowledge that magic really _did _exist and stuff like this could theoretically happen making her face drain of all its color. "Besides, you _kidnapped me. _I was in my trailer, ready to go to bed, when you just _tore through _my house and took me…wherever the hell we are!"

He could tell that she was starting to take his words more seriously by the amount of building hysteria in her eyes. Loki could feel the quick fluttering of her heart, could _hear _it, could _smell _the panic that was starting to creep in on her. He was so attuned to her that he could read every little fluctuation in her eyes, in her scent. It made him itchy and uncomfortable in return, the bitter scent of her distress stinging his nose in a way nothing ever had.

Loki frowned and brought her impossibly closer, his arm tightening around her back to anchor her to him as his fingers traced soothing circles on the skin of her back. "Do not be distressed," he rumbled, his voice slipping into a deeper, more reassuring tone without thought. "I did not mean to frighten you and I regret doing so. I was…under duress at the time. I believe my Jotun blood might have been driving me to find someone suitable to lie with, though that is only a theory."

She opened her mouth to no doubt deliver a stinging retort along the lines of, _"Well, that's good for you. Now that you've __**lain **__with me, can you let me __**go?" **_but he was quick to cut her off before she could get the words out.

"And as for your…_dwelling," _He wrinkled his nose at the thought. _That metal barrel was her __**home? **_"I regret my less than couth entrance, but it is irrelevant now. You will no longer be living there. You will move your belongings here, to live with me."

Just the thought of her parting with him made him feel nauseous, like the distance was a physical blow to his gut. He couldn't do it.

Before she could interject with the righteous indignation he could see brewing in her eyes, he continued. "Whether you believe you gave your consent or not, we are married. A magical bonding that cannot be undone." Loki sighed quietly through his nose and smoothed his hand down the curve of her spine. Gentler, he said: "Can you not feel it, the bond between us?"

He pressed his chest against hers, feeling his heartbeat sync with hers, willing her to feel it, too. "Can you not feel the magic bonding us?" With each brush of her skin against his, he could feel a little tug in his gut, a little spark along his spine. They were undeniably wed, and although he would have never, _ever _thought of pursuing Thor's mortal lover, let alone _marrying _her, Loki could not say that he was terribly displeased with the turn of events.

He had done his research on the woman after being dragged to Midgard for the second time, when Thor had all but thrown him at the poor woman in an introduction that lasted but seconds. Loki hadn't seen much in her then, but _now, _he saw her in a whole new light.

_She is undeniably brilliant, as a builder of a working Bifrost ought to be. _

_She is strong-willed, if she can humble that oaf, Thor._

_She is…not quite the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes upon, but more unique. Neither blond nor tall, quite unlike an Asgardian woman. It is refreshing. _But she didn't need to be the most stunning woman to ever cross his path to make him _burn _with desire for her, as was quite evident by his still hard length held snugly within her, despite her attempts to squirm away.

It seemed that Jane Foster, the woman who was once the stalwart lover of the mighty Thor, was perfectly matched for _him. _And his Jotun blood knew it before he did.

That wasn't to say that Loki was instantly in love with her, because he wasn't. No, there wasn't love, but he could not be parted from her, he was and had been fascinated by her knowledge, and now he desired her with every piece of his soul. There was in getting rid of him now.

On the other end of the spectrum, Jane lay there, stunned, indignant, panicked, and all of the emotions that came with finding oneself suddenly married to the Norse god of mischief.

It was true, however much she loathed to admit it, but Jane _did _feel drawn to him. She did feel the way her skin seemed to burn when it came in contact with his, the way her senses narrowed their field to focus solely on him, but that didn't mean they were _married. _That just meant they had…_chemistry. _

Jane swallowed thickly when she felt him shift against her, readjusting the way they lay to allow him room to slip more comfortably within her. "Hey, hey!" she squeaked, trying to put _some _distance between them and failing. "We already _had _sex! Shouldn't you be _better _now?!"

He certainly _felt _saner now that he had lain with her, but that wasn't enough. The prince still wasn't satisfied. Every brush of her skin against his, every sweet breath she exhaled across his cheeks, every subtle nuance of her scent that surrounded the both of them made him shiver with desire. And he had a feeling that his _little problem _wouldn't be going away anytime soon if they did not find a way to take care of it.

Loki grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut when he felt her shift again, attempting to get away from him no doubt, but caused her inner walls to ripple around him in a way that made his length _ache _with need.

_No, we are not done here yet. _

Most bonding rites took several rounds of consummation before completely solidifying, he knew, and apparently theirs was no different. Until they finished the bond, he would not be satisfied and she would not be going _anywhere. _

"Jane," he growled, opening his eyes to send her a heated, almost desperate look. "If you do not cease your squirming, I will take you again. And this time, I will not give you a warning."

Jane squeaked pitifully in surprise then stilled completely, not willing to move another inch if it meant he would really go through with that…threat. _Promise? _

"So," she began, her voice nervous and slightly disbelieving. _Maybe if I keep him talking it will distract him from…that. _"If we _are _married, like you say, then how do we get rid of it? I mean, how do _annul _it?"

Clearly, this woman knew nothing of magically bonding marriages.

Loki sighed and shook his head. "No, there is no way. It is permanent."

Jane groaned and closed her eyes, letting the absurdity of the situation wash over her. "Okay, but we don't _have _to actually be _married, _though. What if we just, I don't know, did this once and never saw each other again? You could go do your thing and I could do mine and…don't look at me like that, I'm trying to help!"

"We are _married, _Jane." He growled, not liking the sound of her _leaving him _at all. "You are my wife and I am your husband and we will act as such." There was no way he could let her out of his sight now. There was no way he could allow another man within a _mile _of her now. "You will live here, with me, your _husband_." To drive his point home, he bucked his hips just a little, emphasizing the last growled word. "And we will _be _married."

Jane gasped, feeling like that one small thrust had sent lightening from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head. It dazed her for a moment, all thoughts fleeing her brilliant mind as she clambered to hold onto the delicious sensation. "You don't even _know _me," she gasped softly before biting her lip, her hips unconsciously nudging into his, trying to recreate that electric buzz she felt.

Loki inwardly groaned at the feeling of her small movement, the effort it took to keep from moving proving almost too much for him. He grit his teeth and moved his hand to her hip, whether to keep her still or to urge her to move again, he wasn't sure. "I know enough," he said, his voice a little rough. "And I will know more with time."

She opened her mouth to protest with the completely logical argument that she was _mortal _and he was a _god, _therefore this could _never _work, but he silenced her by crushing his lips against her before she could get the words out. She fought him for a moment, her hands pressing against his chest in attempt to get him to stop thinking with his _thing _and really talk about what had happened, but her resistance didn't last long. How could it, when her every sense seemed to focus on him? When he was biting her lip so sensually? When the hand that had been on her hip was creeping up her side in a tantalizingly slow manner?

Very quickly, she melted against him, helpless to the way her body reacted to him. She made a tiny noise of protest in the back of her throat, but it was quickly swallowed by his lips and tongue as they did their magic against hers.

When he felt that she was sufficiently distracted, Loki pulled back, just enough to speak. "We will talk more of this later," he breathed, shifting his weight to pin her beneath him once more, his hands drifting down to arrange her thighs around his hips. "Right now, we have more important matters to attend to."

Loki dipped his head back down to press his lips to hers once more, his tongue snaking passed her teeth to brush against hers. He gently massaged her creamy thigh with one hand before moving it back up to skim over her stomach, then her breasts. His skilled fingers did their work there, making her gasp against his mouth and her inner walls ripple around him deliciously. The prince pulled his mouth away from hers and skimmed his lips over her cheek to rest over her ear, his cool breath brushing over the sensitive skin there. "This time it will be better," he promised huskily, darting his tongue out trace the shell of her ear.

It had been much too quick the first time, something that he fully intended to make up to his new wife. Loki liked to think of himself as a rather skilled lover, so his clumsiness and rushed pace of their first time embarrassed him. This time, it would be about her, no matter how much his aching erection demanded he simply _get on with it. _

Jane swallowed thickly and tried to work up the will to protest, to argue with him about what the _hell _was going on, but his touches were too distracting, too electrifying to allow much thought at all. She couldn't help but raise her arms to smooth her hands down his back experimentally, feeling the defined muscle there, flexing with his every movement. _He's lean, but he's definitely not __**skinny. **_

Loki made a soft purring sound of approval, liking the she ran her small, soft hands over his skin. He pressed a kiss to her earlobe, then trailed his lips down to her neck, leaving nips, licks, and hot, open-mouthed kisses in his wake. He firmly kneaded her breast, before pinching and rolling her rosy nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The prince felt her arch her back beneath him and smiled against her skin. He delivered a sharp, approving nip to her shoulder, and then soothed the sting with a slow drag of his tongue. "Tell me, Jane," he whispered heatedly, dragging his mouth back up to her ear. "Tell me you want."

He wanted her explicit consent, now that he was in his right mind. He didn't want her to have another excuse to fight him on this, on their bond.

Jane was too lost in the feeling of his skin on hers, in the ache between her thighs that he was _filling. _She couldn't help the fast beating of her heart or the way her breathing had turned to pants, her thighs tightening around his hips in response to his teasing her. "I…" He pinched her nipple sharply, making her gasp and arch her spine more completely into him. "I want…_you." _

But that wasn't good enough for him. Loki wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled the both of them up in one swift motion, changing the angle and position to have her sitting in his lap, his arm wrapped tightly around her petite body. Loki growled and thrust his hips into hers once, a sharp movement that was meant to give her a taste of just what he would do to her when he got what he wanted.

"_Who, _Jane. _Who _do you want?" he growled, lifting a hand to tangle in her hair, angling her head back to look up at him. _"Tell me."_

Jane clung to his back, not prepared for the change in position, let alone the sharp thrust that made her _ache _for him. Rational thought fled her when faced with that kind of physical persuasion. She _needed _him to just _move. _"I want _you, _Loki," she gasped, tilting her chin up a little more to brush her lips against his as she spoke. _"Loki." _

The prince grinned almost sinisterly against her mouth before deepening the contact to a heated kiss, his hand leaving her hair and back to grasp her hips. Without preamble, he guided her up and down on him, his hips meeting hers with each motion in rough, sharp thrusts. It felt _unbelievably _good to be moving within her like that, to have her fully participating. Now that he was in his right mind, Loki could fully enjoy it, could take in every sound she made and the feeling of her silky muscles gripping him so tightly.

Jane whimpered against his mouth and moved over him, letting him guide her. She clawed at his back; her nails biting into his inhumanly touch skin as the sensations washed over her. Soon, he was leaning her back, his hands completely supporting her weight as he drove into her, faster and faster.

Loki knew when she was close, could feel her tightening and shivering around him as her climax drew closer. When he knew she was just on the precipice, he tore his mouth from hers and dipped his face down to latch his teeth onto the mating mark that adorned her collar, biting down on the tender wound just as she came undone around him.

After several harsh thrusts, Loki once more spilled himself inside her, fulfilling a bone-deep, instinctual need to fill her womb with his seed. When he had finished and his hips stopped moving weakly against her, he laid her back down on the mattress with the utmost care, though he stayed within her like his instincts demanded.

Jane was still too dazed by everything to think properly, so when he shifted to lay behind her, still firmly within her, she didn't protest. "You will stay with me," he whispered in her ear, his arm tightening around her small frame protectively.

He never thought he would be married, but now that he was…he saw the advantage it might bring. Because now, he _had _someone. On Midgard, he was completely alone, but now he had been tied to irrevocably to this little woman. He _had _someone.

And though Jane didn't know it or ask for it, there was no getting rid of him, her husband.

_Not now, not ever. _


End file.
